--
Oh villain, pocky villain!
Oh villain, pocky villain!
Dryden - Complete
_
[The last Stanza sung over again betwixt PAN and the Nereid. After
which, the former dance is varied, and goes on.
Enter COMUS, with three Peasants, who sing the following Song in Parts.
Com. _Your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reaped;
Your barns will be full, and your hovels heaped;
Come, my boys, come;
Come, my boys, come;
And merrily roar out harvest home;
Harvest home,
Harvest home;
And merrily roar out harvest home. _
Chor. _Come, my boys, come, &c. _
1 Man. _We ha' cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again.
For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten?
One in ten,
One in ten;
For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten? _
2 Man. _For prating so long like a book-learned sot,
Till pudding and dumpling burn to pot, Burn to pot,
Burn to pot;
Till pudding and dumpling burn to pot. _
Chor. _Burn to pot, &c. _
3 Man. _We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand,
And hoigh for the honour of old England:
Old England,
Old England;
And hoigh for the honour of old England. _
Chor. _Old England, &c. _
[The Dance varied into a round Country-dance.
_Enter_ VENUS.
Venus. _Fairest isle, all isles excelling,
Seat of pleasures and of loves;
Venus here will chuse her dwelling,
And forsake her Cyprian groves. _
_Cupid from his favourite nation
Care and envy will remove;
Jealousy, that poisons passion,
And despair, that dies for love. _
_Gentle murmurs, sweet complaining,
Sighs, that blow the fire of love;
Soft repulses, kind disdaining,
Shall be all the pains you prove. _
_Every swain shall pay his duty,
Grateful every nymph shall prove;
And as these excel in beauty,
Those shall be renowned for love. _
SONG BY MR HOWE.
She. _You say, 'Tis love creates the pain,
Of which so sadly you complain;
And yet would fain engage my heart
In that uneasy cruel part;
But how, alas! think you, that I
Can bear the wound of which you die? _
He. _'Tis not my passion makes my care,
But your indifference gives despair;
The lusty sun begets no spring,
Till gentle showers assistance bring;
So love, that scorches and destroys,
Till kindness aids, can cause no joys. _
She. _Love has a thousand ways to please,
But more to rob us of our ease;
For wakeful nights, and careful days,
Some hours of pleasure he repays;
But absence soon, or jealous fears,
O'erflow the joys with flood of tears. _
He. _By vain and senseless forms betrayed,
Harmless love's the offender made;
While we no other pains endure,
Than those, that we ourselves procure;
But one soft moment makes amends
For all the torment that attends. _
Chorus of both.
_Let us love, let us love, and to happiness haste.
Age and wisdom come too fast;
Youth for loving was designed. _
He alone. _I'll be constant, you'll be kind. _
She alone. _You'll be constant, I'll be kind. _
Both. _Heaven can give no greater blessing
Than faithful love, and kind possessing. _
[After the Dialogue, a Warlike Concert: The SCENE opens above, and
discovers the Order of the Garter.
_Enter_ HONOUR, _attended by Heroes_.
_Merl. _ These, who last entered, are our valiant Britons,
Who shall by sea and land repel our foes.
Now, look above, and in heaven's high abyss,
Behold what fame attends those future heroes.
Honour, who leads them to that steepy height,
In her immortal song shall tell the rest.
HONOUR _sings_.
_St George, the patron of our isle,
A soldier, and a saint,
On that auspicious order smile,
Which love and arms will plant. _
_Our natives not alone appear
To court this martial prize;
But foreign kings, adopted here,
Their crowns at home despise. _
_Our sovereign high, in awful state,
His honours shall bestow;
And see his sceptered subjects wait
On his commands below. _
[A full Chorus of the whole Song: After
which, the grand Dance.
_Arth. _ [_To_ MERL. ] Wisely you have, whate'er will please, revealed:
What would displease, as wisely have concealed:
Triumphs of war and peace, at full ye show,
But swiftly turn the pages of our woe.
Rest we contented with our present state;
'Tis anxious to enquire of future fate. [24]
That race of heroes is enough alone,
For all unseen disasters to atone.
Let us make haste betimes to reap our share,
And not resign them all the praise of war;
But set the example, and their souls inflame,
To copy out their great forefathers' name. [_Exeunt omnes. _
EPILOGUE
SPOKEN BY MRS BRACEGIRDLE.
I've had to-day a dozen billet-doux
From fops, and wits, and cits, and Bow-street beaux;[25]
Some from Whitehall, but from the Temple more;
A Covent-Garden porter brought me four.
I have not yet read all: But, without feigning,
We maids can make shrewd guesses at your meaning.
What if, to shew your styles, I read them here? }
Methinks I hear one cry, "O Lord, forbear! }
No, madam, no; by heaven, that's too severe. " }
Well then, be safe----
But swear henceforwards to renounce all writing, }
And take this solemn oath of my inditing,-- }
As you love ease, and hate campaigns and fighting. }
Yet, faith, 'tis just to make some few examples:
What if I shew'd you one or two for samples?
Here's one desires my ladyship to meet
[_Pulls out one. _
At the kind couch above in Bridges-Street.
Oh sharping knave! that would have--you know what,
For a poor sneaking treat of chocolate.
Now, in the name of luck, I'll break this open,
[_Pulls out another. _
Because I dreamt last night I had a token;
The superscription is exceeding pretty,
--"To the desire of all the town and city. "
Now, gallants, you must know, this precious fop
Is foreman of a haberdasher's shop:
One who devoutly cheats; demure in carriage;
And courts me to the holy bands of marriage;
But, with a civil innuendo too,
My overplus of love shall be for you.
"Madam, I swear your looks are so divine,
[_Reads. _
When I set up, your face shall be my sign;
Though times are hard--to show how I adore you,
Here's my whole heart, and half-a-guinea for you.
But, have a care of beaux! they're false, my honey;
And, which is worse, have not a rag of money. "
See how maliciously the rogue would wrong ye!
But I know better things of some among ye.
My wisest way will be to keep the stage,
And trust to the good-nature of the age:
And he, that likes the music and the play,
Shall be my favourite gallant to-day.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 19: In imitation of the blind man, who said, that "red
resembled the sound of a trumpet. "]
[Footnote 20: One virtue ascribed by Odinn to the Runick characters
was, to blunt the weapons of an enemy. ]
[Footnote 21: In this Ode is contained all the use which our poet
made of his knowledge of the Saxon manners, gleaned from Bede and
Bochart. It is certain, that the Saxons, like the other Northmen,
used the horrible superstition of human sacrifices. Woden, Freya or
Frigga his wife, and Thor the god of war, were worshipped by the Saxons
with probably the same attributes ascribed to them as in Denmark and
Sweden. The casting of lots is mentioned by Alfred in his version of
Bede, _pluton mid tanum_, "they cast lots with twigs. " Much, and most
extensive learning, has been displayed on the subject, by Mr Turner, in
the fourth volume of his Anglo-Saxon History. ]
[Footnote 22: This long stage direction contains an attempt to render
interesting what is necessarily ridiculous. With all the assistance
of bloody spunges, a stage combat must be always a ludicrous
representation of a real one. We are content, in old plays, to let it
pass, as a hieroglyphic, which conveys to us the author's meaning;
but modern dramatists would do well to obscure their combats, if the
termination is to be a bloody one. ]
[Footnote 23: The Nine Worthies were equally divided among three
religions; namely, Three Pagans, Hector, Pompey, and Alexander the
Great; three Jews, Joshua, David, and Judas Machabæus; and three
Christians, Arthur, Charlemagne, and Godfrey of Boulogne. ]
[Footnote 24: In this passage, Dryden's discontent with the existing
circumstances glances out: It is probable, that much was here omitted,
or altered, which would have adorned the termination of the piece,
had it been represented to Charles II. as originally designed by the
author. ]
[Footnote 25: With a slight alteration in spelling, a modern poet would
have written _Bond-Street_ beaux. A billet-doux from _Bow-Street_ would
be now more alarming than flattering. ]
CLEOMENES,
THE
SPARTAN HERO,
A
TRAGEDY.
TO WHICH IS PREFIXED
THE LIFE OF CLEOMENES,
BY MR THOMAS CREECH.
_His armis, illâ quoque tutus in Aulâ. _--JUV. Sat. iv.
CLEOMENES.
There has been occasion to remark, that Dryden seldom avails himself
of national peculiarities, or national _costume_, in sketching his
dramatic personages; the present tragedy forms, however, a remarkable
exception to this general observation. Cleomenes, the last of the
Spartans, is designed, not only as a hero, but as a Lacedemonian; and
is a just picture of that extraordinary race of men, whose virtues
were comprized in patriotism, and whose whole passions centered in
a thirst for military glory. This character Dryden has drawn with
admirable spirit and precision. It was indeed peculiarly suited to his
genius; for, although sometimes deficient in the pathos and natural
expression of violent passion, by which Otway, and even Southerne,
could affect the passions of an audience, he never fails in expressing,
in the most noble language, the sentiments of that stoical philosophy,
which considers sufferings rather as subjects of moral reflection,
than of natural feeling. Yet, lest a character so invulnerable to
the shafts of adversity, so much the _totus teres atque rotundus_ of
the poet, should fail to interest the audience, (for we seldom pity
those who shew no symptoms of feeling their own sorrows,) Dryden has
softened the character of his Spartan hero by the influence of those
chaste and tender domestic affections, which thrive best in bosoms
rendered by nature or philosophy inaccessible to selfish feeling. The
haughty and unbending spirit, the love of war, and thirst of honour
proper to the Lacedemonian, and inculcated by the whole train of his
education, complete the character of Cleomenes. The same spirit, which
animates the father, is finely represented as descending upon the son.
Cleonidas is a model of a Spartan youth; and every slight expression
which he uses, tends to bring out that celebrated character. The idea
of this spirited boy seems to be taken from the excellent character
of Hengo, in the "Bonduca" of Beaumont and Fletcher; whom Cleonidas
resembles in the manner of his death, and in his previous sufferings
by hunger, as well as in his premature courage, and emulation of his
father's military glory. [26] The wife and mother of Cleomenes seem
to be sketched after those of Coriolanus: the former exhibiting a
mild and gentle disposition; the latter, the high-souled magnanimity
of a Spartan matron. Of the other characters, little need be said.
Ptolemy is a silly tyrant, Sosibius a wily minister, and Cleanthes a
friend and confident; such as tyrants, ministers, and confidents in
tragedies usually are. Judging from his first appearance, the author
seems to have intended Pantheus as a character somewhat in contrast to
that of Cleomenes; but he soon tires of the task of discrimination,
and Pantheus sinks into a mere assistant. Cassandra is not sketched
with any peculiar care; her snares are of a nature not very perilous
to Spartan virtue, for her manners are too openly licentious. Such,
however, as are fond of tracing the ideas of poets to those who have
written before them, may consider Cassandra,--in her pride, her love,
and her alternate schemes for saving and destroying Cleomenes,--as
furnishing the original hint of the much more highly finished character
of Zara in Congreve's "Mourning Bride. "
The conduct of the piece, being calculated to evince the Spartan
virtue, patience, and courage, contains a long train of hopes
disappointed, seducing temptations resisted, sufferings patiently
endured, and finally closed by a voluntary death. There is no
particular object to which the attention of the audience is fixed, as
that upon which the conclusion of the piece necessarily depends. The
liberation of Cleomenes from his Egyptian bondage is doubtless the
consummation concerning which the poet meant that we should be anxious;
but this event might be brought about in so many different ways, and,
if accomplished, brings Cleomenes so little nearer to the restoration
of Spartan liberty, that it is perhaps insufficient to excite that
strong, concentrated, and vivid interest, which the plot of a drama
ought properly to inspire. The mind is distracted among the various
possibilities by which the desired catastrophe might be accomplished;
and feels a consciousness, that even were Cleomenes dismissed with full
sails from the port of Alexandria, it would be rather the beginning
than the winding up of his history. For these reasons, the plot seems
more deficient in interest than might have been expected, from the
spirited delineation of the principal character.
It appears that Dryden was unable, from illness, to put the finishing
strokes to "Cleomenes. " That task he committed to Southerne, now his
intimate friend, and who, as may be easily imagined, felt himself
much honoured by the task imposed upon him. [27] The half of the fifth
act was that upon which Southerne exercised this power of revisal and
finishing; for that it amounted to no more, will, I think, be obvious
to any who takes the trouble to compare that act with those which
precede it. The rabble-scene, introduced, as the poet himself tells
us, to gratify the more barbarous part of his audience, is indeed
deplorably bad.
The play, when presented to the theatre, met with unexpected opposition
from the government, then directed by Queen Mary, in the absence of
her husband. This was not very surprising, considering the subject
of the play, and Dryden's well-known principles. The history of an
exiled monarch, soliciting, in the court of an ally, aid to relieve his
country from a foreign yoke, and to restore him to the throne of his
fathers, with the account of a popular insurrection undertaken for the
same purposes, were delicate themes during the reign of William III. ;
at least, when the pen of Dryden was to be employed in them, whose
well-known skill at adapting an ancient story to a modern moral had
so often been exercised in the cause of the house of Stuart. Besides,
he had already given offence by his prologue to the "Prophetess,"
when revived, which contains some familiar metaphorical sneers, as
Cibber calls them, at the Irish war, the female regency, and even the
Revolution itself. This prologue had been forbidden; and a similar
exertion of authority was deemed fit in the case of "Cleomenes. "
Accordingly, before the inoffensive nature of the piece could be
explained, the court took alarm at the subject in the abstract, and
the performance of the piece was prohibited by the Chamberlain. [28] It
appears, the exertions of Lord Rochester, the maternal uncle of Queen
Mary, and of his family, had been sufficiently powerful to guarantee
the harmless nature of the play, and to procure a recal of the mandate,
by which the acting of the piece, and the consequent profits of the
author, had been for some time suspended.
When the play was performed, our author had the satisfaction to see the
first character admirably represented by the well-known Mrs Barry, to
whom he has paid, in the preface, the splendid compliment of saying,
"that she had gained by her performance a reputation beyond any woman
he had ever seen on the theatre. "[29] If this expression, as Cibber
seems to think, be a little over-stretched, it at least serves to prove
to us, that the play was well received; for, otherwise, the intercourse
of civility between the author and performers is generally very slender.
Cleomenes was acted and published in 1692.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 26: The whole passage is so very fine, that I think I may
venture to extract it from this beautiful and forgotten tragedy.
Caratach and Hengo, the uncle and nephew, are besieged on a rock by the
Romans, and reduced to extremity by hunger. They are decoyed by some
food, hung on a rock by the centurion Judas.
CARATACH _and_ HENGO _on the rock_.
_Caratach. _ Courage, my boy! I have found meat: Look, Hengo,
Look where some blessed Briton, to preserve thee,
Was hung a little food and drink; cheer up, boy,
Do not forsake me now!
_Hengo. _ Oh uncle, uncle,
I feel I cannot stay long; yet I'll fetch it,
To keep your noble life. Uncle, I'm heart-whole,
And would live.
_Car. _ Thou shalt, long, I hope.
_Hengo. _ But my head, uncle!
Methinks the rock goes round.
_Enter, below_, MACER _and_ JUDAS, _Romans_.
_Macer. _ Mark them well, Judas.
_Judas. _ Peace, as you love your life.
_Hengo. _ Do not you hear
The noise of bells?
_Car. _ Of bells, boy? 'tis thy fancy;
Alas, thy body's full of wind!
_Hengo. _ Methinks, sir,
They ring a strange sad knell, a preparation
To some near funeral of state. --Nay, weep not,
Mine own sweet uncle; you will kill me sooner.
_Car. _ Oh, my poor chicken!
_Hengo. _ Fie, faint-hearted uncle!
Come, tie me in your belt, and let me down.
_Car. _ I'll go myself, boy.
_Hengo. _ No, as you love me, uncle;
I will not eat it, if I do not fetch it;
The danger only I desire: pray tie me.
_Car. _ I will, and all my care hang o'er thee! Come, child,
My valiant child.
_Hengo. _ Let me down apace, uncle;
And you shall see how, like a daw, I'll whip it
From all their policies; for 'tis most certain
A Roman train; and you must hold me sure too;
You'll spoil all else. When I have brought it, uncle,
We'll be as merry----
_Car. _ Go, in the name of heaven, boy. --
[_Lets him down. _
_Hengo. _ Quick, quick, good uncle! I have it--Oh!
[JUDAS _shoots_ HENGO.
_Car. _ What ailest thou?
_Hengo. _ Oh, my best uncle, I am slain!
_Car. _ I see you,
And heaven direct my hand. --
[_He kills_ JUDAS _with a stone_.
Destruction
Go with thy coward soul! --How dost thou, boy?
--
Oh villain, pocky villain!
_Hengo. _ Oh, uncle, uncle,
Oh how it pricks me! Am I preserved for this?
Extremely pricks me.
_Car. _ Coward, rascal coward!
Dogs eat thy flesh!
_Hengo. _ Oh, I bleed hard! I faint too; out upon't,
How sick I am! --the lean rogue, uncle!
_Car. _ Look, boy;
I've laid him sure enough.
_Hengo. _ Have you knocked his brains out?
_Car. _ I warrant thee, for stirring more; cheer up, child.
_Hengo. _ Hold my sides hard; stop, stop; oh, wretched fortune,
Must we part thus? Still I grow sicker, uncle.
_Car. _ Heaven look upon this noble child!
_Hengo. _ I once hoped
I should have lived to have met these bloody Romans
At my sword's point, to have revenged my father,
To have beaten them. Oh hold me hard! --but, uncle--
_Car. _ Thou shalt live still, I hope, boy. Shall I draw it?
_Hengo. _ You draw away my soul, then. I would live
A little longer; spare me, heavens! but only
To thank you for your tender love. Good uncle,
Good noble uncle, weep not.
_Car. _ Oh my chicken,
My dear boy, what shall I lose!
_Hengo. _ Why, a child
That must have died however; had this 'scaped me,
Fever or famine. I was born to die, sir.
_Car. _ But thus unblown, my boy?
_Hengo. _ I go the straighter
My journey to the Gods. Sure I shall know you
When you come, uncle?
_Car. _ Yes, boy.
_Hengo. _ And I hope
We shall enjoy together that great blessedness
You told me of?
_Car. _ Most certain, child.
_Hengo. _ I grow cold;
Mine eyes are going.
_Car. _ Lift them up.
_Hengo. _ Pray for me--
And, noble uncle, when my bones are ashes,
Think of your little nephew! mercy! --
_Car. _ Mercy!
You blessed angels, take him!
_Hengo. _ Kiss me--so--
Farewell, farewell!
[_Dies. _
_Car. _ Farewell the hopes of Britain!
Thou royal graft, farewell for ever! --Time and death,
Ye've done your worst. Fortune, now see, now proudly
Pluck off thy veil, and view thy triumph; look,
Look what thou hast brought this land to. --Oh, fair flower,
How lovely yet thy ruins show! how sweetly
Even death embraces thee! The peace of heaven,
The fellowship of all great souls, be with thee!
_The Tragedy of Bonduca_, act v.
This extract is perhaps longer than necessary; but, independently of
its extreme beauty, it serves to justify the observation in the text,
that Dryden had the recollection of Hengo strongly in his memory while
composing the character of Cleonidas. Both are extenuated by hunger,
and both killed insidiously by a cowardly enemy; and the reader will
discover more minute resemblances to the very dialogue of Beaumont and
Fletcher on perusing p. 209, and pp. 324, 325. I do Dryden no injury in
ascribing a decided superiority to the more ancient dramatists. ]
[Footnote 27: This fact is ascertained by the following passage in the
Dedication of Southerne's play, called the "Wife's Excuse," to the
Honourable Thomas Wharton.
"These, sir, are capital objections against me; but they hit very few
faults, nor have they mortified me into a despair of pleasing the more
reasonable part of mankind. If Mr Dryden's judgment goes for any thing,
I have it on my side; for, speaking of this play, he has publicly said,
"the town was kind to Sir Anthony Love; I needed them only to be just
to this;" and to prove there was more than friendship in his opinion,
upon the credit of this play with him, falling sick last summer, he
bequeathed to my care the half of the last act of his tragedy of
"Cleomenes;" which, when it comes into the world, you will find to be
so considerable a trust, that all the town will pardon me for defending
this play, that preferred me to it. If modesty be sometimes a weakness,
what I say can hardly be a crime: in a fair English trial, both parties
are allowed to be heard; and, without this vanity of mentioning Mr
Dryden, I had lost the best evidence of my cause. "
I cannot but remark a material difference between this quotation, as
here quoted from the 8vo edition of Southerne's Plays, 1774, and as
quoted by Mr Malone, who reads "_the fifth act_," instead of "_the
half_ of the fifth _act_. "]
[Footnote 28: Motteux, in the "Gentleman's Journal," has announced the
prohibition of Cleomenes, and its removal, in a remarkable passage
quoted by Mr Malone.
"I was in hopes to have given you in this letter an account of the
acting of Dryden's "Cleomenes:" it was to have appeared upon the stage
on Saturday last, and you need not doubt but that the town was big with
the expectation of the performance; but orders came from her Majesty to
hinder its being acted; so that none can tell when it shall be played. "
"I told you in my last," says the same writer in the following month,
"that none could tell when Mr Dryden's "Cleomenes" would appear. Since
that time, the innocence and merit of the play have raised it several
eminent advocates, who have prevailed to have it acted; and you need
not doubt but it has been with great applause. "]
[Footnote 29: Cibber has thus described Mrs Barry at the time when she
was honoured by this high compliment from Dryden:
"Mrs Barry was then (in 1690) in possession of almost all the chief
parts in tragedy: With what skill she gave life to them, you may judge
from the words of Dryden in his preface to "Cleomenes. " I perfectly
remember her acting that part; and, however unnecessary it may seem
to give my judgement after Dryden's, I cannot help saying, I do not
only close with his opinion, but will venture to add, that though
Dryden has been dead these thirty-eight years, the same compliment to
this hour may be due to her excellence. And though she was then not a
little past her youth, she was not till that time fully arrived to her
maturity of power and judgment. From whence I would observe, that the
short life of beauty is not long enough to form a complete actress.
In men, the delicacy of person is not so absolutely necessary, nor
the decline of it so soon taken notice of. The fame Mrs Barry arrived
at, is a particular proof of the difficulty there is in judging with
certainty from their first trials, whether young people will ever make
any great figure in a theatre. There was, it seems, so little hope of
Mrs Barry at her first setting out, that she was at the end of the
first year discharged the company, among others that were thought to
be a useless expence to it. I take it for granted, that the objection
to Mrs Barry at that time must have been a defective ear, or some
unskilful dissonance in her manner of pronouncing. But where there is
a proper voice and person, with the addition of a good understanding,
experience tells us, that such defect is not always invincible; of
which not only Mrs Barry, but the late Mrs Oldfield, are eminent
instances,--Mrs Barry, in characters of greatness, had a presence of
elevated dignity; her mien and motion superb, and gracefully majestic;
her voice full, clear, and strong, so that no violence of passion
could be too much for her; and when distress or tenderness possessed
her, she subsided into the most affecting melody and softness. In
the art of exciting pity, she had a power beyond all the actresses I
have yet seen, or what your imagination can conceive. Of the former
of these two great excellencies, she gave the most delightful proofs
in almost all the heroic plays of Dryden and Lee; and of the latter,
in the softer passions of Otway's Monimia and Belvidera. In scenes of
anger, defiance, or resentment, while she was impetuous and terrible,
she poured out the sentiment with an enchanting harmony; and it was
this particular excellence for which Dryden made her the above-recited
compliment upon her acting Cassandra in his "Cleomenes. " But here I
am apt to think his partiality for that character may have tempted
his judgment to let it pass for her master-piece, when he could not
but know there are several other characters in which her action might
have given her a fairer pretence to the praise he has bestowed upon
her for Cassandra: for in no part of that is there the least ground
for compassion, as in Monimia; nor equal cause for admiration, as in
the nobler love of Cleopatra, or the tempestuous jealousy of Roxana.
'Twas in these lights I thought Mrs Barry shone with a much brighter
excellence than in Cassandra. She was the first person whose merit
was distinguished by the indulgence of having an annual benefit-play,
which was granted to her alone, if I mistake not, first in King James's
time; and which became not common to others, till the division of
this company after the death of King William's Queen Mary. This great
actress died of a fever towards the latter end of Queen Anne; the year
I have forgot, but perhaps you will recollect it by an expression
that fell from her in blank verse, in her last hours, when she was
delirious, viz.
Ha, ha! and so they make us lords by dozens! "
"And yet (says Antony Aston, in his curious 'Supplement to Cibber's
work,') this fine creature was not handsome, her mouth opening most
on the right side, which she strove to draw t'other way, and at times
composing her face, as if sitting to have her picture drawn. Mrs Barry
was middle-sized, and had darkish hair, light eyes, dark eye-brows, and
was indifferently plump. She had a manner of drawing out her words,
which became her, but not Mrs Bradshaw and Mrs Porter, her successors.
Neither she, nor any of the actresses of those times, had any tone in
their speech, so much lately in use. In tragedy she was solemn and
august; in free comedy, alert, easy, and genteel; pleasant in her face
and action; filling the stage with variety of gesture. She was woman to
Lady Shelton, of Norfolk, (my godmother,) when Lord Rochester took her
on the stage, where for some time they could make nothing of her. She
could neither sing nor dance, no not in a country-dance. "--MALONE, Vol.
III. p. 227. ]
TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE EARL OF ROCHESTER,
KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, &c[30].
It is enough for your lordship to be conscious to yourself of having
performed a just and honourable action, in redeeming this play from
the persecution of my enemies; but it would be ingratitude in me, not
to publish it to the world. That it has appeared on the stage, is
principally owing to you: that it has succeeded, is the approbation of
your judgment by that of the public. It is just the inversion of an act
of parliament: Your lordship first signed it, and then it was passed
amongst the Lords and Commons. The children of old men are generally
observed to be short-lived, and of a weakly constitution. How this may
prove, I know not, but hitherto it has promised well; and if it survive
to posterity, it will carry the noble fame of its patron along with
it; or, rather, it will be carried by yours to after-ages. Ariosto, in
his Voyage of Astolpho to the Moon, has given us a fine allegory of
two swans; who, when Time had thrown the writings of many poets into
the river of oblivion, were ever in a readiness to secure the best,
and bear them aloft into the temple of immortality. [31] Whether this
poem be of that number, is left to the judgment of the swan who has
preserved it; and, though I can claim little from his justice, I may
presume to value myself upon his charity. It will be told me, that I
have mistaken the Italian poet, who means only, that some excellent
writers, almost as few in number as the swans, have rescued the memory
of their patrons from forgetfulness and time; when a vast multitude of
crows and vultures, that is, bad scribblers, parasites, and flatterers,
oppressed by the weight of the names which they endeavoured to redeem,
were forced to let them fall into Lethe, where they were lost for ever.
If it be thus, my lord, the table would be turned upon me; but I should
only fail in my vain attempt; for, either some immortal swan will be
more capable of sustaining such a weight, or you, who have so long been
conversant in the management of great affairs, are able with your pen
to do justice to yourself, and, at the same time, to give the nation
a clearer and more faithful insight into those transactions, wherein
you have worthily sustained so great a part; for, to your experience
in state affairs, you have also joined no vulgar erudition, which all
your modesty is not able to conceal: for, to understand critically the
delicacies of Horace, is a height to which few of our noblemen have
arrived; and that this is your deserved commendation, I am a living
evidence, as far, at least, as I can be allowed a competent judge on
that subject. Your affection to that admirable Ode, which Horace writes
to his Mecænas, and which I had the honour to inscribe to you, is not
the only proof of this assertion[32]. You may please to remember that,
in the late happy conversation which I had with your lordship at a
noble relation's of yours, you took me aside, and pleased yourself
with repeating to me one of the most beautiful pieces in that author.
It was the Ode to Barine, wherein you were so particularly affected
with that elegant expression, _Juvenumque prodis publica cura_. There
is indeed the virtue of a whole poem in those words; that _curiosa
felicitas_, which Petronius so justly ascribes to our author. The
barbarity of our language is not able to reach it; yet, when I have
leisure, I mean to try how near I can raise my English to his Latin;
though, in the mean time, I cannot but imagine to myself, with what
scorn his sacred _manes_ would look on so lame a translation as I could
make. His _recalcitrat undique tutus_ might more easily be applied to
me, than he himself applied it to Augustus Cæsar. I ought to reckon
that day as very fortunate to me, and distinguish it, as the ancients
did, with a whiter stone; because it furnished me with an occasion
of reading my Cleomenes to a beautiful assembly of ladies, where
your lordship's three fair daughters were pleased to grace it with
their presence[33]; and, if I may have leave to single out any one in
particular, there was your admirable daughter-in-law, shining, not
like a star, but a constellation of herself, a more true and brighter
Berenice. Then it was, that, whether out of your own partiality, and
indulgence to my writings, or out of complaisance to the fair company,
who gave the first good omen to my success by their approbation, your
lordship was pleased to add your own, and afterwards to represent
it to the queen, as wholly innocent of those crimes which were laid
unjustly to its charge. Neither am I to forget my charming patroness,
though she will not allow my public address to her in a dedication, but
protects me unseen, like my guardian-angel, and shuns my gratitude,
like a fairy, who is bountiful by stealth, and conceals the giver when
she bestows the gift; but, my Lady Silvius[34] has been juster to me,
and pointed out the goddess at whose altar I was to pay my sacrifice
and thanks-offering; and, had she been silent, yet my Lord Chamberlain
himself, in restoring my play without any alteration, avowed to me,
that I had the most earnest solicitress, as well as the fairest, and
that nothing could be refused to my Lady Hyde.
These favours, my lord, received from yourself, and your noble family,
have encouraged me to this dedication; wherein I not only give you
back a play, which, had you not redeemed it, had not been mine; but
also, at the same time, dedicate to you the unworthy author, with my
inviolable faith, and (how mean soever) my utmost service; and I shall
be proud to hold my dependance on you in chief, as I do part of my
small fortune in Wiltshire. Your goodness has not been wanting to me
during the reign of my two masters; and, even from a bare treasury, my
success has been contrary to that of Mr Cowley; and Gideon's fleece has
then been moistened, when all the ground has been dry about it[35].
Such and so many provocations of this nature have concurred to my
invading of your modesty with this address. I am sensible that it is
in a manner forced upon you; but your lordship has been the aggressor
in this quarrel, by so many favours, which you were not weary of
conferring on me, though, at the same time, I own the ambition on my
side, to be ever esteemed,
Your Lordship's most thankful,
And most obedient Servant,
JOHN DRYDEN.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 30: Dryden had already distinguished Hyde, Earl of Rochester,
by inscribing "The Duke of Guise" to him. As he was son of the famous
Lord Clarendon, he was, of course, uncle to Queen Mary, by the mother's
side, and his protection continued therefore to be respectable,
although his political tenets were strongly Jacobitical. ]
[Footnote 31: See the end of the 34th and beginning of the 35th canto
of the "Orlando Furioso. "]
[Footnote 32: The 29th Ode of the First Book. See it among our author's
translations from Horace. ]
[Footnote 33: These ladies, Mr Malone supposes to be Lord Rochester's
two daughters, Henrietta Lady Dalkeith, and Mary Lady Conway, with his
daughter-in-law Lady Hyde, the Berenice who is mentioned presently
afterward. The Duchess of Ormond, eldest daughter of the Earl, died in
1685, and therefore could not be of the number. ]
[Footnote 34: Lady Silvius was the wife of Sir Gabriel Silvius,
employed upon various occasions as an English envoy on the Continent. ]
[Footnote 35:
"As a fair morning of the blessed spring,
After a tedious stormy night,
Such was the glorious entry of our King;
Enriching moisture dropp'd on every thing;
Plenty he sow'd below, and cast about him light.
But then, alas! to thee alone
One of old Gideon's miracles was shewn,
For every tree and every herb around
With pearly dew was crown'd;
And upon all the quicken'd ground
The fruitful seed of heaven did brooding lie,
And nothing but the Muses' fleece was dry. "]
PREFACE.
It is now seven or eight years since I designed to write this play of
"Cleomenes;" and my Lord Falkland[36], (whose name I cannot mention
without honour, for the many favours I have received from him) is
pleased to witness for me, that, in a French book which I presented
him about that time, there were the names of many subjects that I had
thought on for the stage, amongst which this tragedy was one. This
was out of my remembrance; but my lord, on the occasion of stopping
my play, took the opportunity of doing me a good office at court, by
representing it as it was, a piece long ago designed; which being
judiciously treated, I thought was capable of moving compassion on the
stage. The success has justified my opinion; and that at a time when
the world is running mad after Farce, the extremity of bad poetry, or
rather the judgment that is fallen upon dramatic writing. Were I in the
humour, I have sufficient cause to expose it in its true colours; but,
having for once escaped, I will forbear my satire, and only be thankful
for my deliverance. A great part of my good fortune, I must confess,
is owing to the justice which was done me in the performance. I can
scarcely refrain from giving every one of the actors their particular
commendations; but none of them will be offended, if I say what the
town has generally granted, that Mrs Barry, always excellent, has, in
this tragedy, excelled herself, and gained a reputation beyond any
woman whom I have ever seen on the theatre. After all, it was a bold
attempt of mine, to write upon a single plot, unmixed with comedy;
which, though it be the natural and true way, yet is not to the genius
of the nation. Yet, to gratify the barbarous party of my audience, I
gave them a short rabble-scene, because the mob (as they call them)
are represented by Plutarch and Polybius, with the same character of
baseness and cowardice, which are here described in the last attempt of
"Cleomenes. " They may thank me, if they please, for this indulgence;
for no French poet would have allowed them any more than a bare
relation of that scene, which debases a tragedy to show upon the stage.
For the rest, some of the mechanic rules of unity are observed, and
others are neglected. The action is but one, which is the death of
Cleomenes; and every scene in the play is tending to the accomplishment
of the main design. The place is likewise one; for, it is all in the
compass of Alexandria, and the port of that city. The time might easily
have been reduced into the space of twenty-four hours, if I would have
omitted the scene of famine in the fifth act; but it pleased me to try
how Spartans could endure it; and, besides, gave me the occasion of
writing that other scene, betwixt Cleomenes and his suspected friend;
and, in such a case, it is better to trespass on a rule, than leave out
a beauty.
As for other objections, I never heard any worth answering; and, least
of all, that foolish one which is raised against me by the sparks, for
Cleomenes not accepting the favours of Cassandra. They would not have
refused a fair lady! I grant they would not; but, let them grant me,
that they are not heroes; and so much for the point of honour[37]. A
man might have pleaded an excuse for himself, if he had been false
to an old wife, for the sake of a young mistress; but Cleora was in
the flower of her age, and it was yet but honey-moon with Cleomenes;
and so much for nature. Some have told me, that many of the fair sex
complain for want of tender scenes, and soft expressions of love. I
will endeavour to make them some amends, if I write again, and my next
hero shall be no Spartan.
I know it will be here expected, that I should write somewhat
concerning the forbidding of my play; but, the less I say of it, the
better. And, besides, I was so little concerned at it, that, had it not
been on consideration of the actors, who were to suffer on my account,
I should not have been at all solicitous whether it were played or
no. Nobody can imagine that, in my declining age, I write willingly,
or that I am desirous of exposing, at this time of day, the small
reputation which I have gotten on the theatre. The subsistence which I
had from the former government is lost; and the reward I have from the
stage is so little, that it is not worth my labour.
As for the reasons which were given for suspending the play, it seems
they were so ill-founded, that my Lord Chamberlain no sooner took the
pains to read it, but they vanished; and my copy was restored to me,
without the least alteration by his lordship. It is printed as it was
acted; and, I dare assure you, that here is no parallel to be found:
it is neither compliment, nor satire; but a plain story, more strictly
followed than any which has appeared upon the stage. It is true, it had
been garbled before by the superiors of the play-house; and I cannot
reasonably blame them for their caution, because they are answerable
for any thing that is publicly represented; and their zeal for the
government is such, that they had rather lose the best poetry in the
world, than give the least suspicion of their loyalty. The short is,
that they were diligent enough to make sure work, and to geld it so
clearly in some places, that they took away the very manhood of it. I
can only apply to them, what Cassandra says somewhere in the play to
Ptolemy;
To be so nice in my concerns for you;
To doubt where doubts are not; to be too fearful;
To raise a bug-bear shadow of a danger;
And then be frighted, though it cannot reach you.
But, since it concerns me to be as circumspect as they are, I have
given leave to my bookseller to print the life of Cleomenes, as
it is elegantly and faithfully translated out of Plutarch, by my
learned friend, Mr Creech, to whom the world has been indebted for
his excellent version of Lucretius, and I particularly obliged in his
translation of Horace[38]. We daily expect Manilius from him, an author
worthy only of such hands; which, having formerly revealed the secrets
of nature to us here on earth, is now discovering to us her palace in
the skies, and, if I might be allowed to say it, giving light to the
stars of heaven:
_Ergò vivida vis animi pervicit, et extra
Processit longè flammantia moenia mundi. _[39]
But, to return to Plutarch: you will find him particularly fond of
Cleomenes his character; who, as he was the last of the Spartan heroes,
so he was, in my opinion, the greatest. Even his enemy, Polybius,
though engaged in the contrary faction, yet speaks honourably of him,
and especially of his last action in Egypt. This author is also made
English, and will shortly be published for the common benefit[40].
What I have added to the story, is chiefly the love of Agathoclea, the
king's mistress, whose name I have changed into Cassandra, only for
the better sound; as I have also the name of Nicagoras, into that of
Cœnus, for the same reason. Cratesiclæa, Pantheus, and Sosybius, are to
be found in the story, with the same characters which they have in the
tragedy. There is likewise mention made of the son of Cleomenes, who
had resolution enough to throw himself headlong from a tower, when he
had heard of his father's ill success. And for Cleora, whom I make the
second wife of Cleomenes, (for Ægiatis was dead before) you will find a
hint of her in Plutarch; for, he tells us, that after the loss of the
battle at Sellasia, he returned to Sparta, and, entering his own house,
was there attended by a free-born woman of Megalopolis.
The picture of Ptolemy Philopater is given by the fore-mentioned
authors to the full. Both agree that he was an original of his kind; a
lazy, effeminate, cowardly, cruel, and luxurious prince, managed by his
favourite, and imposed on by his mistress. The son of Sosybius, whom I
call Cleanthes, was a friend to Cleomenes; but, Plutarch says, he at
length forsook him. I have given him a fairer character, and made it
only a seeming treachery, which he practised. If any be so curious to
enquire what became of Cassandra, whose fortune was left in suspence at
the conclusion of the play, I must first inform them, that, after the
death of Cleomenes, (the hero of my poem) I was obliged by the laws of
the drama, to let fall the curtain immediately, because the action was
then concluded. But Polybius tells us, that she survived Ptolemy, who
reigned about twenty-seven years; that, with her brother Agathocles,
she governed Egypt in the minority of his son Ptolemy Epiphanes; and
that, finally, for oppressing of the people, both the brother and
sister were slain in a popular insurrection.
There is nothing remaining, but my thanks to the town in general,
and to the fair ladies in particular, for their kind reception of my
play. And, though I cannot retract what I said before, that I was not
much concerned, in my own particular, for the embargo which was laid
upon it, yet I think myself obliged, at the same time, to render my
acknowledgments to those honourable persons, who were instrumental
in the freeing it; for, as it was from a principle of nobleness in
them, that they would not suffer one to want, who was grown old in
their service, so, it is from a principle of another sort, that I have
learned to possess my soul in patience, and not to be much disquieted
with any disappointment of this nature.
[_The following verses were sent me by a young gentleman, under
twenty years of age, whose modesty would have concealed his name;
but I learned it from another hand, and have taken the boldness
to subscribe it without his leave. I presume that, on the reading
of them, nobody can blame me for making Cleonidas speak above his
youth, when you see an Englishman so far surpassing my Spartan. _]
TO MR DRYDEN ON HIS CLEOMENES.
Has youth then lost its great prerogative?
And does the soul alone for age survive?
Like embryos sleeping in their seeds, seem nought,
'Till friendly time does ripen it to thought?
[The last Stanza sung over again betwixt PAN and the Nereid. After
which, the former dance is varied, and goes on.
Enter COMUS, with three Peasants, who sing the following Song in Parts.
Com. _Your hay it is mow'd, and your corn is reaped;
Your barns will be full, and your hovels heaped;
Come, my boys, come;
Come, my boys, come;
And merrily roar out harvest home;
Harvest home,
Harvest home;
And merrily roar out harvest home. _
Chor. _Come, my boys, come, &c. _
1 Man. _We ha' cheated the parson, we'll cheat him again.
For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten?
One in ten,
One in ten;
For why should a blockhead ha' one in ten? _
2 Man. _For prating so long like a book-learned sot,
Till pudding and dumpling burn to pot, Burn to pot,
Burn to pot;
Till pudding and dumpling burn to pot. _
Chor. _Burn to pot, &c. _
3 Man. _We'll toss off our ale till we cannot stand,
And hoigh for the honour of old England:
Old England,
Old England;
And hoigh for the honour of old England. _
Chor. _Old England, &c. _
[The Dance varied into a round Country-dance.
_Enter_ VENUS.
Venus. _Fairest isle, all isles excelling,
Seat of pleasures and of loves;
Venus here will chuse her dwelling,
And forsake her Cyprian groves. _
_Cupid from his favourite nation
Care and envy will remove;
Jealousy, that poisons passion,
And despair, that dies for love. _
_Gentle murmurs, sweet complaining,
Sighs, that blow the fire of love;
Soft repulses, kind disdaining,
Shall be all the pains you prove. _
_Every swain shall pay his duty,
Grateful every nymph shall prove;
And as these excel in beauty,
Those shall be renowned for love. _
SONG BY MR HOWE.
She. _You say, 'Tis love creates the pain,
Of which so sadly you complain;
And yet would fain engage my heart
In that uneasy cruel part;
But how, alas! think you, that I
Can bear the wound of which you die? _
He. _'Tis not my passion makes my care,
But your indifference gives despair;
The lusty sun begets no spring,
Till gentle showers assistance bring;
So love, that scorches and destroys,
Till kindness aids, can cause no joys. _
She. _Love has a thousand ways to please,
But more to rob us of our ease;
For wakeful nights, and careful days,
Some hours of pleasure he repays;
But absence soon, or jealous fears,
O'erflow the joys with flood of tears. _
He. _By vain and senseless forms betrayed,
Harmless love's the offender made;
While we no other pains endure,
Than those, that we ourselves procure;
But one soft moment makes amends
For all the torment that attends. _
Chorus of both.
_Let us love, let us love, and to happiness haste.
Age and wisdom come too fast;
Youth for loving was designed. _
He alone. _I'll be constant, you'll be kind. _
She alone. _You'll be constant, I'll be kind. _
Both. _Heaven can give no greater blessing
Than faithful love, and kind possessing. _
[After the Dialogue, a Warlike Concert: The SCENE opens above, and
discovers the Order of the Garter.
_Enter_ HONOUR, _attended by Heroes_.
_Merl. _ These, who last entered, are our valiant Britons,
Who shall by sea and land repel our foes.
Now, look above, and in heaven's high abyss,
Behold what fame attends those future heroes.
Honour, who leads them to that steepy height,
In her immortal song shall tell the rest.
HONOUR _sings_.
_St George, the patron of our isle,
A soldier, and a saint,
On that auspicious order smile,
Which love and arms will plant. _
_Our natives not alone appear
To court this martial prize;
But foreign kings, adopted here,
Their crowns at home despise. _
_Our sovereign high, in awful state,
His honours shall bestow;
And see his sceptered subjects wait
On his commands below. _
[A full Chorus of the whole Song: After
which, the grand Dance.
_Arth. _ [_To_ MERL. ] Wisely you have, whate'er will please, revealed:
What would displease, as wisely have concealed:
Triumphs of war and peace, at full ye show,
But swiftly turn the pages of our woe.
Rest we contented with our present state;
'Tis anxious to enquire of future fate. [24]
That race of heroes is enough alone,
For all unseen disasters to atone.
Let us make haste betimes to reap our share,
And not resign them all the praise of war;
But set the example, and their souls inflame,
To copy out their great forefathers' name. [_Exeunt omnes. _
EPILOGUE
SPOKEN BY MRS BRACEGIRDLE.
I've had to-day a dozen billet-doux
From fops, and wits, and cits, and Bow-street beaux;[25]
Some from Whitehall, but from the Temple more;
A Covent-Garden porter brought me four.
I have not yet read all: But, without feigning,
We maids can make shrewd guesses at your meaning.
What if, to shew your styles, I read them here? }
Methinks I hear one cry, "O Lord, forbear! }
No, madam, no; by heaven, that's too severe. " }
Well then, be safe----
But swear henceforwards to renounce all writing, }
And take this solemn oath of my inditing,-- }
As you love ease, and hate campaigns and fighting. }
Yet, faith, 'tis just to make some few examples:
What if I shew'd you one or two for samples?
Here's one desires my ladyship to meet
[_Pulls out one. _
At the kind couch above in Bridges-Street.
Oh sharping knave! that would have--you know what,
For a poor sneaking treat of chocolate.
Now, in the name of luck, I'll break this open,
[_Pulls out another. _
Because I dreamt last night I had a token;
The superscription is exceeding pretty,
--"To the desire of all the town and city. "
Now, gallants, you must know, this precious fop
Is foreman of a haberdasher's shop:
One who devoutly cheats; demure in carriage;
And courts me to the holy bands of marriage;
But, with a civil innuendo too,
My overplus of love shall be for you.
"Madam, I swear your looks are so divine,
[_Reads. _
When I set up, your face shall be my sign;
Though times are hard--to show how I adore you,
Here's my whole heart, and half-a-guinea for you.
But, have a care of beaux! they're false, my honey;
And, which is worse, have not a rag of money. "
See how maliciously the rogue would wrong ye!
But I know better things of some among ye.
My wisest way will be to keep the stage,
And trust to the good-nature of the age:
And he, that likes the music and the play,
Shall be my favourite gallant to-day.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 19: In imitation of the blind man, who said, that "red
resembled the sound of a trumpet. "]
[Footnote 20: One virtue ascribed by Odinn to the Runick characters
was, to blunt the weapons of an enemy. ]
[Footnote 21: In this Ode is contained all the use which our poet
made of his knowledge of the Saxon manners, gleaned from Bede and
Bochart. It is certain, that the Saxons, like the other Northmen,
used the horrible superstition of human sacrifices. Woden, Freya or
Frigga his wife, and Thor the god of war, were worshipped by the Saxons
with probably the same attributes ascribed to them as in Denmark and
Sweden. The casting of lots is mentioned by Alfred in his version of
Bede, _pluton mid tanum_, "they cast lots with twigs. " Much, and most
extensive learning, has been displayed on the subject, by Mr Turner, in
the fourth volume of his Anglo-Saxon History. ]
[Footnote 22: This long stage direction contains an attempt to render
interesting what is necessarily ridiculous. With all the assistance
of bloody spunges, a stage combat must be always a ludicrous
representation of a real one. We are content, in old plays, to let it
pass, as a hieroglyphic, which conveys to us the author's meaning;
but modern dramatists would do well to obscure their combats, if the
termination is to be a bloody one. ]
[Footnote 23: The Nine Worthies were equally divided among three
religions; namely, Three Pagans, Hector, Pompey, and Alexander the
Great; three Jews, Joshua, David, and Judas Machabæus; and three
Christians, Arthur, Charlemagne, and Godfrey of Boulogne. ]
[Footnote 24: In this passage, Dryden's discontent with the existing
circumstances glances out: It is probable, that much was here omitted,
or altered, which would have adorned the termination of the piece,
had it been represented to Charles II. as originally designed by the
author. ]
[Footnote 25: With a slight alteration in spelling, a modern poet would
have written _Bond-Street_ beaux. A billet-doux from _Bow-Street_ would
be now more alarming than flattering. ]
CLEOMENES,
THE
SPARTAN HERO,
A
TRAGEDY.
TO WHICH IS PREFIXED
THE LIFE OF CLEOMENES,
BY MR THOMAS CREECH.
_His armis, illâ quoque tutus in Aulâ. _--JUV. Sat. iv.
CLEOMENES.
There has been occasion to remark, that Dryden seldom avails himself
of national peculiarities, or national _costume_, in sketching his
dramatic personages; the present tragedy forms, however, a remarkable
exception to this general observation. Cleomenes, the last of the
Spartans, is designed, not only as a hero, but as a Lacedemonian; and
is a just picture of that extraordinary race of men, whose virtues
were comprized in patriotism, and whose whole passions centered in
a thirst for military glory. This character Dryden has drawn with
admirable spirit and precision. It was indeed peculiarly suited to his
genius; for, although sometimes deficient in the pathos and natural
expression of violent passion, by which Otway, and even Southerne,
could affect the passions of an audience, he never fails in expressing,
in the most noble language, the sentiments of that stoical philosophy,
which considers sufferings rather as subjects of moral reflection,
than of natural feeling. Yet, lest a character so invulnerable to
the shafts of adversity, so much the _totus teres atque rotundus_ of
the poet, should fail to interest the audience, (for we seldom pity
those who shew no symptoms of feeling their own sorrows,) Dryden has
softened the character of his Spartan hero by the influence of those
chaste and tender domestic affections, which thrive best in bosoms
rendered by nature or philosophy inaccessible to selfish feeling. The
haughty and unbending spirit, the love of war, and thirst of honour
proper to the Lacedemonian, and inculcated by the whole train of his
education, complete the character of Cleomenes. The same spirit, which
animates the father, is finely represented as descending upon the son.
Cleonidas is a model of a Spartan youth; and every slight expression
which he uses, tends to bring out that celebrated character. The idea
of this spirited boy seems to be taken from the excellent character
of Hengo, in the "Bonduca" of Beaumont and Fletcher; whom Cleonidas
resembles in the manner of his death, and in his previous sufferings
by hunger, as well as in his premature courage, and emulation of his
father's military glory. [26] The wife and mother of Cleomenes seem
to be sketched after those of Coriolanus: the former exhibiting a
mild and gentle disposition; the latter, the high-souled magnanimity
of a Spartan matron. Of the other characters, little need be said.
Ptolemy is a silly tyrant, Sosibius a wily minister, and Cleanthes a
friend and confident; such as tyrants, ministers, and confidents in
tragedies usually are. Judging from his first appearance, the author
seems to have intended Pantheus as a character somewhat in contrast to
that of Cleomenes; but he soon tires of the task of discrimination,
and Pantheus sinks into a mere assistant. Cassandra is not sketched
with any peculiar care; her snares are of a nature not very perilous
to Spartan virtue, for her manners are too openly licentious. Such,
however, as are fond of tracing the ideas of poets to those who have
written before them, may consider Cassandra,--in her pride, her love,
and her alternate schemes for saving and destroying Cleomenes,--as
furnishing the original hint of the much more highly finished character
of Zara in Congreve's "Mourning Bride. "
The conduct of the piece, being calculated to evince the Spartan
virtue, patience, and courage, contains a long train of hopes
disappointed, seducing temptations resisted, sufferings patiently
endured, and finally closed by a voluntary death. There is no
particular object to which the attention of the audience is fixed, as
that upon which the conclusion of the piece necessarily depends. The
liberation of Cleomenes from his Egyptian bondage is doubtless the
consummation concerning which the poet meant that we should be anxious;
but this event might be brought about in so many different ways, and,
if accomplished, brings Cleomenes so little nearer to the restoration
of Spartan liberty, that it is perhaps insufficient to excite that
strong, concentrated, and vivid interest, which the plot of a drama
ought properly to inspire. The mind is distracted among the various
possibilities by which the desired catastrophe might be accomplished;
and feels a consciousness, that even were Cleomenes dismissed with full
sails from the port of Alexandria, it would be rather the beginning
than the winding up of his history. For these reasons, the plot seems
more deficient in interest than might have been expected, from the
spirited delineation of the principal character.
It appears that Dryden was unable, from illness, to put the finishing
strokes to "Cleomenes. " That task he committed to Southerne, now his
intimate friend, and who, as may be easily imagined, felt himself
much honoured by the task imposed upon him. [27] The half of the fifth
act was that upon which Southerne exercised this power of revisal and
finishing; for that it amounted to no more, will, I think, be obvious
to any who takes the trouble to compare that act with those which
precede it. The rabble-scene, introduced, as the poet himself tells
us, to gratify the more barbarous part of his audience, is indeed
deplorably bad.
The play, when presented to the theatre, met with unexpected opposition
from the government, then directed by Queen Mary, in the absence of
her husband. This was not very surprising, considering the subject
of the play, and Dryden's well-known principles. The history of an
exiled monarch, soliciting, in the court of an ally, aid to relieve his
country from a foreign yoke, and to restore him to the throne of his
fathers, with the account of a popular insurrection undertaken for the
same purposes, were delicate themes during the reign of William III. ;
at least, when the pen of Dryden was to be employed in them, whose
well-known skill at adapting an ancient story to a modern moral had
so often been exercised in the cause of the house of Stuart. Besides,
he had already given offence by his prologue to the "Prophetess,"
when revived, which contains some familiar metaphorical sneers, as
Cibber calls them, at the Irish war, the female regency, and even the
Revolution itself. This prologue had been forbidden; and a similar
exertion of authority was deemed fit in the case of "Cleomenes. "
Accordingly, before the inoffensive nature of the piece could be
explained, the court took alarm at the subject in the abstract, and
the performance of the piece was prohibited by the Chamberlain. [28] It
appears, the exertions of Lord Rochester, the maternal uncle of Queen
Mary, and of his family, had been sufficiently powerful to guarantee
the harmless nature of the play, and to procure a recal of the mandate,
by which the acting of the piece, and the consequent profits of the
author, had been for some time suspended.
When the play was performed, our author had the satisfaction to see the
first character admirably represented by the well-known Mrs Barry, to
whom he has paid, in the preface, the splendid compliment of saying,
"that she had gained by her performance a reputation beyond any woman
he had ever seen on the theatre. "[29] If this expression, as Cibber
seems to think, be a little over-stretched, it at least serves to prove
to us, that the play was well received; for, otherwise, the intercourse
of civility between the author and performers is generally very slender.
Cleomenes was acted and published in 1692.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 26: The whole passage is so very fine, that I think I may
venture to extract it from this beautiful and forgotten tragedy.
Caratach and Hengo, the uncle and nephew, are besieged on a rock by the
Romans, and reduced to extremity by hunger. They are decoyed by some
food, hung on a rock by the centurion Judas.
CARATACH _and_ HENGO _on the rock_.
_Caratach. _ Courage, my boy! I have found meat: Look, Hengo,
Look where some blessed Briton, to preserve thee,
Was hung a little food and drink; cheer up, boy,
Do not forsake me now!
_Hengo. _ Oh uncle, uncle,
I feel I cannot stay long; yet I'll fetch it,
To keep your noble life. Uncle, I'm heart-whole,
And would live.
_Car. _ Thou shalt, long, I hope.
_Hengo. _ But my head, uncle!
Methinks the rock goes round.
_Enter, below_, MACER _and_ JUDAS, _Romans_.
_Macer. _ Mark them well, Judas.
_Judas. _ Peace, as you love your life.
_Hengo. _ Do not you hear
The noise of bells?
_Car. _ Of bells, boy? 'tis thy fancy;
Alas, thy body's full of wind!
_Hengo. _ Methinks, sir,
They ring a strange sad knell, a preparation
To some near funeral of state. --Nay, weep not,
Mine own sweet uncle; you will kill me sooner.
_Car. _ Oh, my poor chicken!
_Hengo. _ Fie, faint-hearted uncle!
Come, tie me in your belt, and let me down.
_Car. _ I'll go myself, boy.
_Hengo. _ No, as you love me, uncle;
I will not eat it, if I do not fetch it;
The danger only I desire: pray tie me.
_Car. _ I will, and all my care hang o'er thee! Come, child,
My valiant child.
_Hengo. _ Let me down apace, uncle;
And you shall see how, like a daw, I'll whip it
From all their policies; for 'tis most certain
A Roman train; and you must hold me sure too;
You'll spoil all else. When I have brought it, uncle,
We'll be as merry----
_Car. _ Go, in the name of heaven, boy. --
[_Lets him down. _
_Hengo. _ Quick, quick, good uncle! I have it--Oh!
[JUDAS _shoots_ HENGO.
_Car. _ What ailest thou?
_Hengo. _ Oh, my best uncle, I am slain!
_Car. _ I see you,
And heaven direct my hand. --
[_He kills_ JUDAS _with a stone_.
Destruction
Go with thy coward soul! --How dost thou, boy?
--
Oh villain, pocky villain!
_Hengo. _ Oh, uncle, uncle,
Oh how it pricks me! Am I preserved for this?
Extremely pricks me.
_Car. _ Coward, rascal coward!
Dogs eat thy flesh!
_Hengo. _ Oh, I bleed hard! I faint too; out upon't,
How sick I am! --the lean rogue, uncle!
_Car. _ Look, boy;
I've laid him sure enough.
_Hengo. _ Have you knocked his brains out?
_Car. _ I warrant thee, for stirring more; cheer up, child.
_Hengo. _ Hold my sides hard; stop, stop; oh, wretched fortune,
Must we part thus? Still I grow sicker, uncle.
_Car. _ Heaven look upon this noble child!
_Hengo. _ I once hoped
I should have lived to have met these bloody Romans
At my sword's point, to have revenged my father,
To have beaten them. Oh hold me hard! --but, uncle--
_Car. _ Thou shalt live still, I hope, boy. Shall I draw it?
_Hengo. _ You draw away my soul, then. I would live
A little longer; spare me, heavens! but only
To thank you for your tender love. Good uncle,
Good noble uncle, weep not.
_Car. _ Oh my chicken,
My dear boy, what shall I lose!
_Hengo. _ Why, a child
That must have died however; had this 'scaped me,
Fever or famine. I was born to die, sir.
_Car. _ But thus unblown, my boy?
_Hengo. _ I go the straighter
My journey to the Gods. Sure I shall know you
When you come, uncle?
_Car. _ Yes, boy.
_Hengo. _ And I hope
We shall enjoy together that great blessedness
You told me of?
_Car. _ Most certain, child.
_Hengo. _ I grow cold;
Mine eyes are going.
_Car. _ Lift them up.
_Hengo. _ Pray for me--
And, noble uncle, when my bones are ashes,
Think of your little nephew! mercy! --
_Car. _ Mercy!
You blessed angels, take him!
_Hengo. _ Kiss me--so--
Farewell, farewell!
[_Dies. _
_Car. _ Farewell the hopes of Britain!
Thou royal graft, farewell for ever! --Time and death,
Ye've done your worst. Fortune, now see, now proudly
Pluck off thy veil, and view thy triumph; look,
Look what thou hast brought this land to. --Oh, fair flower,
How lovely yet thy ruins show! how sweetly
Even death embraces thee! The peace of heaven,
The fellowship of all great souls, be with thee!
_The Tragedy of Bonduca_, act v.
This extract is perhaps longer than necessary; but, independently of
its extreme beauty, it serves to justify the observation in the text,
that Dryden had the recollection of Hengo strongly in his memory while
composing the character of Cleonidas. Both are extenuated by hunger,
and both killed insidiously by a cowardly enemy; and the reader will
discover more minute resemblances to the very dialogue of Beaumont and
Fletcher on perusing p. 209, and pp. 324, 325. I do Dryden no injury in
ascribing a decided superiority to the more ancient dramatists. ]
[Footnote 27: This fact is ascertained by the following passage in the
Dedication of Southerne's play, called the "Wife's Excuse," to the
Honourable Thomas Wharton.
"These, sir, are capital objections against me; but they hit very few
faults, nor have they mortified me into a despair of pleasing the more
reasonable part of mankind. If Mr Dryden's judgment goes for any thing,
I have it on my side; for, speaking of this play, he has publicly said,
"the town was kind to Sir Anthony Love; I needed them only to be just
to this;" and to prove there was more than friendship in his opinion,
upon the credit of this play with him, falling sick last summer, he
bequeathed to my care the half of the last act of his tragedy of
"Cleomenes;" which, when it comes into the world, you will find to be
so considerable a trust, that all the town will pardon me for defending
this play, that preferred me to it. If modesty be sometimes a weakness,
what I say can hardly be a crime: in a fair English trial, both parties
are allowed to be heard; and, without this vanity of mentioning Mr
Dryden, I had lost the best evidence of my cause. "
I cannot but remark a material difference between this quotation, as
here quoted from the 8vo edition of Southerne's Plays, 1774, and as
quoted by Mr Malone, who reads "_the fifth act_," instead of "_the
half_ of the fifth _act_. "]
[Footnote 28: Motteux, in the "Gentleman's Journal," has announced the
prohibition of Cleomenes, and its removal, in a remarkable passage
quoted by Mr Malone.
"I was in hopes to have given you in this letter an account of the
acting of Dryden's "Cleomenes:" it was to have appeared upon the stage
on Saturday last, and you need not doubt but that the town was big with
the expectation of the performance; but orders came from her Majesty to
hinder its being acted; so that none can tell when it shall be played. "
"I told you in my last," says the same writer in the following month,
"that none could tell when Mr Dryden's "Cleomenes" would appear. Since
that time, the innocence and merit of the play have raised it several
eminent advocates, who have prevailed to have it acted; and you need
not doubt but it has been with great applause. "]
[Footnote 29: Cibber has thus described Mrs Barry at the time when she
was honoured by this high compliment from Dryden:
"Mrs Barry was then (in 1690) in possession of almost all the chief
parts in tragedy: With what skill she gave life to them, you may judge
from the words of Dryden in his preface to "Cleomenes. " I perfectly
remember her acting that part; and, however unnecessary it may seem
to give my judgement after Dryden's, I cannot help saying, I do not
only close with his opinion, but will venture to add, that though
Dryden has been dead these thirty-eight years, the same compliment to
this hour may be due to her excellence. And though she was then not a
little past her youth, she was not till that time fully arrived to her
maturity of power and judgment. From whence I would observe, that the
short life of beauty is not long enough to form a complete actress.
In men, the delicacy of person is not so absolutely necessary, nor
the decline of it so soon taken notice of. The fame Mrs Barry arrived
at, is a particular proof of the difficulty there is in judging with
certainty from their first trials, whether young people will ever make
any great figure in a theatre. There was, it seems, so little hope of
Mrs Barry at her first setting out, that she was at the end of the
first year discharged the company, among others that were thought to
be a useless expence to it. I take it for granted, that the objection
to Mrs Barry at that time must have been a defective ear, or some
unskilful dissonance in her manner of pronouncing. But where there is
a proper voice and person, with the addition of a good understanding,
experience tells us, that such defect is not always invincible; of
which not only Mrs Barry, but the late Mrs Oldfield, are eminent
instances,--Mrs Barry, in characters of greatness, had a presence of
elevated dignity; her mien and motion superb, and gracefully majestic;
her voice full, clear, and strong, so that no violence of passion
could be too much for her; and when distress or tenderness possessed
her, she subsided into the most affecting melody and softness. In
the art of exciting pity, she had a power beyond all the actresses I
have yet seen, or what your imagination can conceive. Of the former
of these two great excellencies, she gave the most delightful proofs
in almost all the heroic plays of Dryden and Lee; and of the latter,
in the softer passions of Otway's Monimia and Belvidera. In scenes of
anger, defiance, or resentment, while she was impetuous and terrible,
she poured out the sentiment with an enchanting harmony; and it was
this particular excellence for which Dryden made her the above-recited
compliment upon her acting Cassandra in his "Cleomenes. " But here I
am apt to think his partiality for that character may have tempted
his judgment to let it pass for her master-piece, when he could not
but know there are several other characters in which her action might
have given her a fairer pretence to the praise he has bestowed upon
her for Cassandra: for in no part of that is there the least ground
for compassion, as in Monimia; nor equal cause for admiration, as in
the nobler love of Cleopatra, or the tempestuous jealousy of Roxana.
'Twas in these lights I thought Mrs Barry shone with a much brighter
excellence than in Cassandra. She was the first person whose merit
was distinguished by the indulgence of having an annual benefit-play,
which was granted to her alone, if I mistake not, first in King James's
time; and which became not common to others, till the division of
this company after the death of King William's Queen Mary. This great
actress died of a fever towards the latter end of Queen Anne; the year
I have forgot, but perhaps you will recollect it by an expression
that fell from her in blank verse, in her last hours, when she was
delirious, viz.
Ha, ha! and so they make us lords by dozens! "
"And yet (says Antony Aston, in his curious 'Supplement to Cibber's
work,') this fine creature was not handsome, her mouth opening most
on the right side, which she strove to draw t'other way, and at times
composing her face, as if sitting to have her picture drawn. Mrs Barry
was middle-sized, and had darkish hair, light eyes, dark eye-brows, and
was indifferently plump. She had a manner of drawing out her words,
which became her, but not Mrs Bradshaw and Mrs Porter, her successors.
Neither she, nor any of the actresses of those times, had any tone in
their speech, so much lately in use. In tragedy she was solemn and
august; in free comedy, alert, easy, and genteel; pleasant in her face
and action; filling the stage with variety of gesture. She was woman to
Lady Shelton, of Norfolk, (my godmother,) when Lord Rochester took her
on the stage, where for some time they could make nothing of her. She
could neither sing nor dance, no not in a country-dance. "--MALONE, Vol.
III. p. 227. ]
TO
THE RIGHT HONOURABLE
THE EARL OF ROCHESTER,
KNIGHT OF THE MOST NOBLE ORDER OF THE GARTER, &c[30].
It is enough for your lordship to be conscious to yourself of having
performed a just and honourable action, in redeeming this play from
the persecution of my enemies; but it would be ingratitude in me, not
to publish it to the world. That it has appeared on the stage, is
principally owing to you: that it has succeeded, is the approbation of
your judgment by that of the public. It is just the inversion of an act
of parliament: Your lordship first signed it, and then it was passed
amongst the Lords and Commons. The children of old men are generally
observed to be short-lived, and of a weakly constitution. How this may
prove, I know not, but hitherto it has promised well; and if it survive
to posterity, it will carry the noble fame of its patron along with
it; or, rather, it will be carried by yours to after-ages. Ariosto, in
his Voyage of Astolpho to the Moon, has given us a fine allegory of
two swans; who, when Time had thrown the writings of many poets into
the river of oblivion, were ever in a readiness to secure the best,
and bear them aloft into the temple of immortality. [31] Whether this
poem be of that number, is left to the judgment of the swan who has
preserved it; and, though I can claim little from his justice, I may
presume to value myself upon his charity. It will be told me, that I
have mistaken the Italian poet, who means only, that some excellent
writers, almost as few in number as the swans, have rescued the memory
of their patrons from forgetfulness and time; when a vast multitude of
crows and vultures, that is, bad scribblers, parasites, and flatterers,
oppressed by the weight of the names which they endeavoured to redeem,
were forced to let them fall into Lethe, where they were lost for ever.
If it be thus, my lord, the table would be turned upon me; but I should
only fail in my vain attempt; for, either some immortal swan will be
more capable of sustaining such a weight, or you, who have so long been
conversant in the management of great affairs, are able with your pen
to do justice to yourself, and, at the same time, to give the nation
a clearer and more faithful insight into those transactions, wherein
you have worthily sustained so great a part; for, to your experience
in state affairs, you have also joined no vulgar erudition, which all
your modesty is not able to conceal: for, to understand critically the
delicacies of Horace, is a height to which few of our noblemen have
arrived; and that this is your deserved commendation, I am a living
evidence, as far, at least, as I can be allowed a competent judge on
that subject. Your affection to that admirable Ode, which Horace writes
to his Mecænas, and which I had the honour to inscribe to you, is not
the only proof of this assertion[32]. You may please to remember that,
in the late happy conversation which I had with your lordship at a
noble relation's of yours, you took me aside, and pleased yourself
with repeating to me one of the most beautiful pieces in that author.
It was the Ode to Barine, wherein you were so particularly affected
with that elegant expression, _Juvenumque prodis publica cura_. There
is indeed the virtue of a whole poem in those words; that _curiosa
felicitas_, which Petronius so justly ascribes to our author. The
barbarity of our language is not able to reach it; yet, when I have
leisure, I mean to try how near I can raise my English to his Latin;
though, in the mean time, I cannot but imagine to myself, with what
scorn his sacred _manes_ would look on so lame a translation as I could
make. His _recalcitrat undique tutus_ might more easily be applied to
me, than he himself applied it to Augustus Cæsar. I ought to reckon
that day as very fortunate to me, and distinguish it, as the ancients
did, with a whiter stone; because it furnished me with an occasion
of reading my Cleomenes to a beautiful assembly of ladies, where
your lordship's three fair daughters were pleased to grace it with
their presence[33]; and, if I may have leave to single out any one in
particular, there was your admirable daughter-in-law, shining, not
like a star, but a constellation of herself, a more true and brighter
Berenice. Then it was, that, whether out of your own partiality, and
indulgence to my writings, or out of complaisance to the fair company,
who gave the first good omen to my success by their approbation, your
lordship was pleased to add your own, and afterwards to represent
it to the queen, as wholly innocent of those crimes which were laid
unjustly to its charge. Neither am I to forget my charming patroness,
though she will not allow my public address to her in a dedication, but
protects me unseen, like my guardian-angel, and shuns my gratitude,
like a fairy, who is bountiful by stealth, and conceals the giver when
she bestows the gift; but, my Lady Silvius[34] has been juster to me,
and pointed out the goddess at whose altar I was to pay my sacrifice
and thanks-offering; and, had she been silent, yet my Lord Chamberlain
himself, in restoring my play without any alteration, avowed to me,
that I had the most earnest solicitress, as well as the fairest, and
that nothing could be refused to my Lady Hyde.
These favours, my lord, received from yourself, and your noble family,
have encouraged me to this dedication; wherein I not only give you
back a play, which, had you not redeemed it, had not been mine; but
also, at the same time, dedicate to you the unworthy author, with my
inviolable faith, and (how mean soever) my utmost service; and I shall
be proud to hold my dependance on you in chief, as I do part of my
small fortune in Wiltshire. Your goodness has not been wanting to me
during the reign of my two masters; and, even from a bare treasury, my
success has been contrary to that of Mr Cowley; and Gideon's fleece has
then been moistened, when all the ground has been dry about it[35].
Such and so many provocations of this nature have concurred to my
invading of your modesty with this address. I am sensible that it is
in a manner forced upon you; but your lordship has been the aggressor
in this quarrel, by so many favours, which you were not weary of
conferring on me, though, at the same time, I own the ambition on my
side, to be ever esteemed,
Your Lordship's most thankful,
And most obedient Servant,
JOHN DRYDEN.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 30: Dryden had already distinguished Hyde, Earl of Rochester,
by inscribing "The Duke of Guise" to him. As he was son of the famous
Lord Clarendon, he was, of course, uncle to Queen Mary, by the mother's
side, and his protection continued therefore to be respectable,
although his political tenets were strongly Jacobitical. ]
[Footnote 31: See the end of the 34th and beginning of the 35th canto
of the "Orlando Furioso. "]
[Footnote 32: The 29th Ode of the First Book. See it among our author's
translations from Horace. ]
[Footnote 33: These ladies, Mr Malone supposes to be Lord Rochester's
two daughters, Henrietta Lady Dalkeith, and Mary Lady Conway, with his
daughter-in-law Lady Hyde, the Berenice who is mentioned presently
afterward. The Duchess of Ormond, eldest daughter of the Earl, died in
1685, and therefore could not be of the number. ]
[Footnote 34: Lady Silvius was the wife of Sir Gabriel Silvius,
employed upon various occasions as an English envoy on the Continent. ]
[Footnote 35:
"As a fair morning of the blessed spring,
After a tedious stormy night,
Such was the glorious entry of our King;
Enriching moisture dropp'd on every thing;
Plenty he sow'd below, and cast about him light.
But then, alas! to thee alone
One of old Gideon's miracles was shewn,
For every tree and every herb around
With pearly dew was crown'd;
And upon all the quicken'd ground
The fruitful seed of heaven did brooding lie,
And nothing but the Muses' fleece was dry. "]
PREFACE.
It is now seven or eight years since I designed to write this play of
"Cleomenes;" and my Lord Falkland[36], (whose name I cannot mention
without honour, for the many favours I have received from him) is
pleased to witness for me, that, in a French book which I presented
him about that time, there were the names of many subjects that I had
thought on for the stage, amongst which this tragedy was one. This
was out of my remembrance; but my lord, on the occasion of stopping
my play, took the opportunity of doing me a good office at court, by
representing it as it was, a piece long ago designed; which being
judiciously treated, I thought was capable of moving compassion on the
stage. The success has justified my opinion; and that at a time when
the world is running mad after Farce, the extremity of bad poetry, or
rather the judgment that is fallen upon dramatic writing. Were I in the
humour, I have sufficient cause to expose it in its true colours; but,
having for once escaped, I will forbear my satire, and only be thankful
for my deliverance. A great part of my good fortune, I must confess,
is owing to the justice which was done me in the performance. I can
scarcely refrain from giving every one of the actors their particular
commendations; but none of them will be offended, if I say what the
town has generally granted, that Mrs Barry, always excellent, has, in
this tragedy, excelled herself, and gained a reputation beyond any
woman whom I have ever seen on the theatre. After all, it was a bold
attempt of mine, to write upon a single plot, unmixed with comedy;
which, though it be the natural and true way, yet is not to the genius
of the nation. Yet, to gratify the barbarous party of my audience, I
gave them a short rabble-scene, because the mob (as they call them)
are represented by Plutarch and Polybius, with the same character of
baseness and cowardice, which are here described in the last attempt of
"Cleomenes. " They may thank me, if they please, for this indulgence;
for no French poet would have allowed them any more than a bare
relation of that scene, which debases a tragedy to show upon the stage.
For the rest, some of the mechanic rules of unity are observed, and
others are neglected. The action is but one, which is the death of
Cleomenes; and every scene in the play is tending to the accomplishment
of the main design. The place is likewise one; for, it is all in the
compass of Alexandria, and the port of that city. The time might easily
have been reduced into the space of twenty-four hours, if I would have
omitted the scene of famine in the fifth act; but it pleased me to try
how Spartans could endure it; and, besides, gave me the occasion of
writing that other scene, betwixt Cleomenes and his suspected friend;
and, in such a case, it is better to trespass on a rule, than leave out
a beauty.
As for other objections, I never heard any worth answering; and, least
of all, that foolish one which is raised against me by the sparks, for
Cleomenes not accepting the favours of Cassandra. They would not have
refused a fair lady! I grant they would not; but, let them grant me,
that they are not heroes; and so much for the point of honour[37]. A
man might have pleaded an excuse for himself, if he had been false
to an old wife, for the sake of a young mistress; but Cleora was in
the flower of her age, and it was yet but honey-moon with Cleomenes;
and so much for nature. Some have told me, that many of the fair sex
complain for want of tender scenes, and soft expressions of love. I
will endeavour to make them some amends, if I write again, and my next
hero shall be no Spartan.
I know it will be here expected, that I should write somewhat
concerning the forbidding of my play; but, the less I say of it, the
better. And, besides, I was so little concerned at it, that, had it not
been on consideration of the actors, who were to suffer on my account,
I should not have been at all solicitous whether it were played or
no. Nobody can imagine that, in my declining age, I write willingly,
or that I am desirous of exposing, at this time of day, the small
reputation which I have gotten on the theatre. The subsistence which I
had from the former government is lost; and the reward I have from the
stage is so little, that it is not worth my labour.
As for the reasons which were given for suspending the play, it seems
they were so ill-founded, that my Lord Chamberlain no sooner took the
pains to read it, but they vanished; and my copy was restored to me,
without the least alteration by his lordship. It is printed as it was
acted; and, I dare assure you, that here is no parallel to be found:
it is neither compliment, nor satire; but a plain story, more strictly
followed than any which has appeared upon the stage. It is true, it had
been garbled before by the superiors of the play-house; and I cannot
reasonably blame them for their caution, because they are answerable
for any thing that is publicly represented; and their zeal for the
government is such, that they had rather lose the best poetry in the
world, than give the least suspicion of their loyalty. The short is,
that they were diligent enough to make sure work, and to geld it so
clearly in some places, that they took away the very manhood of it. I
can only apply to them, what Cassandra says somewhere in the play to
Ptolemy;
To be so nice in my concerns for you;
To doubt where doubts are not; to be too fearful;
To raise a bug-bear shadow of a danger;
And then be frighted, though it cannot reach you.
But, since it concerns me to be as circumspect as they are, I have
given leave to my bookseller to print the life of Cleomenes, as
it is elegantly and faithfully translated out of Plutarch, by my
learned friend, Mr Creech, to whom the world has been indebted for
his excellent version of Lucretius, and I particularly obliged in his
translation of Horace[38]. We daily expect Manilius from him, an author
worthy only of such hands; which, having formerly revealed the secrets
of nature to us here on earth, is now discovering to us her palace in
the skies, and, if I might be allowed to say it, giving light to the
stars of heaven:
_Ergò vivida vis animi pervicit, et extra
Processit longè flammantia moenia mundi. _[39]
But, to return to Plutarch: you will find him particularly fond of
Cleomenes his character; who, as he was the last of the Spartan heroes,
so he was, in my opinion, the greatest. Even his enemy, Polybius,
though engaged in the contrary faction, yet speaks honourably of him,
and especially of his last action in Egypt. This author is also made
English, and will shortly be published for the common benefit[40].
What I have added to the story, is chiefly the love of Agathoclea, the
king's mistress, whose name I have changed into Cassandra, only for
the better sound; as I have also the name of Nicagoras, into that of
Cœnus, for the same reason. Cratesiclæa, Pantheus, and Sosybius, are to
be found in the story, with the same characters which they have in the
tragedy. There is likewise mention made of the son of Cleomenes, who
had resolution enough to throw himself headlong from a tower, when he
had heard of his father's ill success. And for Cleora, whom I make the
second wife of Cleomenes, (for Ægiatis was dead before) you will find a
hint of her in Plutarch; for, he tells us, that after the loss of the
battle at Sellasia, he returned to Sparta, and, entering his own house,
was there attended by a free-born woman of Megalopolis.
The picture of Ptolemy Philopater is given by the fore-mentioned
authors to the full. Both agree that he was an original of his kind; a
lazy, effeminate, cowardly, cruel, and luxurious prince, managed by his
favourite, and imposed on by his mistress. The son of Sosybius, whom I
call Cleanthes, was a friend to Cleomenes; but, Plutarch says, he at
length forsook him. I have given him a fairer character, and made it
only a seeming treachery, which he practised. If any be so curious to
enquire what became of Cassandra, whose fortune was left in suspence at
the conclusion of the play, I must first inform them, that, after the
death of Cleomenes, (the hero of my poem) I was obliged by the laws of
the drama, to let fall the curtain immediately, because the action was
then concluded. But Polybius tells us, that she survived Ptolemy, who
reigned about twenty-seven years; that, with her brother Agathocles,
she governed Egypt in the minority of his son Ptolemy Epiphanes; and
that, finally, for oppressing of the people, both the brother and
sister were slain in a popular insurrection.
There is nothing remaining, but my thanks to the town in general,
and to the fair ladies in particular, for their kind reception of my
play. And, though I cannot retract what I said before, that I was not
much concerned, in my own particular, for the embargo which was laid
upon it, yet I think myself obliged, at the same time, to render my
acknowledgments to those honourable persons, who were instrumental
in the freeing it; for, as it was from a principle of nobleness in
them, that they would not suffer one to want, who was grown old in
their service, so, it is from a principle of another sort, that I have
learned to possess my soul in patience, and not to be much disquieted
with any disappointment of this nature.
[_The following verses were sent me by a young gentleman, under
twenty years of age, whose modesty would have concealed his name;
but I learned it from another hand, and have taken the boldness
to subscribe it without his leave. I presume that, on the reading
of them, nobody can blame me for making Cleonidas speak above his
youth, when you see an Englishman so far surpassing my Spartan. _]
TO MR DRYDEN ON HIS CLEOMENES.
Has youth then lost its great prerogative?
And does the soul alone for age survive?
Like embryos sleeping in their seeds, seem nought,
'Till friendly time does ripen it to thought?
